


Swish and flick

by Tashilover



Category: Cabin Pressure, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody liked Martin.</p><p> </p><p>A Hogwarts!AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Least to say, Martin was not popular. Not a hard conclusion to come to, given most Hufflepuffs were as memorable as last week's breakfast, however Martin was especially un-popular given nobody in his own House liked him.

Well, Arthur liked him. But Arthur liked everyone.

It was fine, Martin decided, keeping his head high each time he walked to the Great Hall alone. If they didn't like him for him, then that was their problem. Okay, so he was a bit of a teacher's pet and he never broke the rules, even the ones he personally thought were silly. Still, just because he followed the rules didn't mean he should be isolated from everyone.

The moment he entered the Great Hall, his eyes roamed the Hufflepuff table, searching for an empty spot to sit in. Arthur spotted him and immediately waved him over. "Martin!" He grinned, pointing at the vacant area next to him. "Here, here!"

Martin had to grin sadly at that. At least he could always count on Arthur to be happy to see him.

Just as he walked over to join him, one of the other Hufflepuffs- Nancy- noticed him out of the corner of her eye and suddenly scooted down, angling her body so she took up her own space and the space Arthur saved.

"Um, excuse me," Arthur said politely. "But I was saving this seat for my friend."

Nancy acted like she didn't hear him and kept on talking to the girl next to her.

"Excuse me..."

"It's okay, Arthur," Martin cut in. He didn't want to deal with this right now. Arthur shouldn't have to deal with it, either. "There are other seats down. I'll see you in class."

Martin does his best to school his features, to keep the hurt look off his face. He trudged down the Hufflepuff table, all the way to the end. When he got there, the only one who sat near him were the seventh years. Martin was only a fourth year; nobody wanted to talk to somebody that young.

Swallowing a defeated sigh, Martin quietly piled his plate with food.


	2. Chapter 2

No matter how early September was, the grounds on Hogwarts were always wet with dew. It didn't matter if it was early in the morning or mid-afternoon, the boots of students were always damp from walking across the grounds. It made wanting to spend time outside unecessarily difficult.

Martin supposed he could hang out in the Hufflepuff common room, his bed, or even the library. Except those who 'studied' in their own bed only used that as an excuse to masterbate. The common room never had enough chairs and were way too loud for any sufficient study. And Martin was banned from the library.

Don't ask why.

To find a quiet spot in Hogwarts was not as hard as he thought it would be. He would just have to make due without warmth or a comfortable seat. A random hallway near the Divination classrooms were his best bet.

Martin sat down, plopping his bag next to him. He pulled out his spell book and flipped it to the correct page. With wand in hand, he tried to execute the ennervate spell correctly.

"Ennervate!" He said out loud, swishing his wand. Nothing happened.

Martin double-checked the book. Yes, he was saying it correctly. "Ennervate!"

He swished his arm harder. A few sparks came out, little and depressing.

He didn't understand. He was saying it right, he was moving his arm in the correct way, why couldn't he do it? Martin supposed he could always ask a teacher for help, but none of the teachers ever helped a student on a spell that was above their level. They always told him to wait till he got older.

Martin tried once more and when that resulted in nothing, not even sparks, he threw his wand off to the side in frustration. "Augh!"

He knew he was being childish as he pulled up his knees to his chin, angrily watching as his wand rolled down the hallway. His wand came to stop nearly twenty feet away from.

He knew feeling sorry for himself was stupid and sulking was not going to get him anywhere. Still, though the inner-voice told him to get his arse up, he felt little tears of frustration prickled his eyes.

Martin wiped his face. He was not going to cry. Not over this.

"Huh. Interesting design."

Martin snapped his head up. A tall boy in Ravenclaw colours was holding his wand, inspecting it. The boy raised an eyebrow at Martin. "This yours?"

"Yes," Martin croaked, hating the way his voice sounded. He coughed and got to his feet. He held out his hand. "Give it back."

"Hold on, I'm looking at it. These designs are not usually found in Britain. Where's it from?"

The boy sounded genually curious. When others had looked at Martin's wand, most of them sneered when they saw his wand did not come locally. It didn't matter if it came from the most expensive part of France or the most holy place of Japan. If your wand was not made in Diagon Alley, then it was considered a piece of crap. "America."

"Interesting, not many students here have wands from overseas." The boy then swung the wand around, making a few flowers sprout from the tip. "What a lovely feeling. Not powerful, but light and quick. What's the magical core?"

"Hummingbird feather."

That definately gotten the boy's surprise. "Really," he said. "I'm surprised they still make these, considering hummingbird feathers were never considered powerful. What made you choose this one?"

Martin held out his hand. With an eyebrow raised, the boy handed it back.

"The wizard does not choose his wand," Martin said, stepping back. He held his wand against his chest protectively. "The wand chooses the wizard."

The boy waved his comment away. "Yes, yes, I've heard it all before. But sometimes the wizard can influence the type of wand he gets. If it's power he's looking for, usually power he gets. Why hummingbird?"

Martin fingered the tip of his wand. The very first time his wand had connected to his hand, he understood perfectly why his wand chose him. It was obvious to anybody who knew him. "Hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backwards."

The boy blinked. "Aaaaaaaand...?"

"I like... flying. A hummingbird represents everything I could ever like about flying."

The boy eyed Martin's black and yellow tie. "Hufflepuff, huh? I don't believe I've ever seen you on the Quidditch team."

Martin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from complaining. He knew sometimes it sounded like all he did was complain and he really didn't want to be labeled as a whiner. However, he also knew the captain of the Hufflepuff team had a grudge against him and refused to let him try-out for the team. If he could just show off his skills, the team would want him. All he needed was a chance.

Instead of saying all that, Martin mumbled, "I haven't been given the opportunity to try out for the team."

The boy hummed thoughtfully. "Well, isn't there a try-out next week?"

"Yes."

"Well, there you go."

"I-" Martin stopped short. The boy didn't understand and it would be awkward to correct him. Instead, Martin nodded. "Yeah, okay."

The boy clucked his tongue at the obvious lie. "Huh. Well, I'll let you go. By the way, the ennervate spell needs a booming voice. Next time you say it, say it like you mean it."

Martin waited till the boy's retreating footsteps were no longer heard. He then cleared his throat, and with a dramatic swirl of his wand, cried out, "ENNERVATE!"

Martin was immediately blasted into the wall behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

There were seven people in front of him. All of them looked more like Quidditch players than he did. One by one Captain Lesman called them to the front to show off their skills. Martin kept his head low, hoping Lesman didn't notice him and allow him to try out without realising who he was.

"Next!"

One person was ahead of him. Martin resisted the urge to dance on his toes, to bring more attention to himself. But he was jumping inside, waiting for that moment to swing his leg over on his broom and show off what he could do.

"Next!"

The last person went and Martin's stomach twisted anxiously in anticipation. Just five more minutes, just five-

"Okay, I think we're done for the day."

Martin halted in mid-step. He gaped. "Sir, I-!"

Captain Lesman put away his clipboard and ignored the odd curious looks of the other players. All of them could see Martin was cearly the last to go but nobody made an effort to correct him.

"Thank you everyone for participating," Lesman boomed outloud. "From the looks of it, everyone who  _participated_  will be on the team this year!"

Martin bowed his head, humiliated. He should probably get off the field before anything worse happened.

"Wait a moment, now. What about that kid?"

Martin jerked his head up. That boy, that Ravenclaw boy whom Martin met the week earlier was pointing straight at him. He was also wearing a Qudditch uniform for the Ravencalw team. But he wasn't a beater or a chase. He was  _captain_  of the team. "I personally would like to see him try out."

"You have no opinion here, Richardson," Lesman sneered at him. "My team, my rules."

Martin gaped. Richardson? As in  _Douglas_  Richardson? According to rumors, he was the best captain the Ravenclaw team has had since the early 1800's.

"Come on, Lesman," Richardson said lightly. "Everyone should get a chance to show off their skills. And hey, if the kid sucks, sack him."

There were several rounds of, "Hey, what's the harm?" and "Meh, give him a try, see what happens."

Lesman sighed dramatically. "Fine! Crieff, you're up."

Martin's heart jumped in his chest. He was getting the chance to try-out! A little too eager to show off, Martin swung his leg over his broom, tangled himself in his robes and promptly fell over.

Gales of laughter followed. Embarrassed but not deterred, Martin shoved his robes back and kicked off the ground. He flew upwards, ignoring the forced laughter from below, twisted around to face Lesman and said, "Release the snitch!"

Richardson watched with curiosity, not eagerness. Martin didn't know why Richardson was bothering with him. Maybe he was here for his own amusement. Maybe he was here on a bet. Or maybe, just maybe, he truly wanted Martin to succeed. Either way, Martin was going to try his hardest. He was not going to let this opportunity go by.

Lesman rolled his eyes and popped the golden ball from its confinement. The snitch hovered lightly, jerked to the right and quietly disappeared.

Martin was off.

 

 

 

 

 

In the end, it wasn't the fastest Snitch catch in Hogwarts history, but it was the fastest in Hufflepuff history. When Martin touched ground with that golden ball flapping quietly in his fist, the whole team was cheering.

"Finally!" They chanted. "Maybe now we actually have a chance of winning!"

Though Captain Lesman had yet to agree if Martin was on the team, there was no denying everyone else's enthusiasm. If he turned Martin away now, Lesman would surely face resentment. It didn't matter to Martin if he got on the team by a technicality or not, he was on the team!

He was so happy, he didn't care Arthur was hugging the life out of him. "Congratulations, Martin!" Arthur squealed happily. "I'm so glad you got on the team!"

"Thanks, Arthur. I'm glad too."

Over Arthur's shoulders, Martin noticed Douglas waiting patiently by the castle entrance. He leaned against the door frame, arms crossed and a smug smirk on his face. "Excuse me, Arthur," Martin said, pulling away. "I have to go thank someone."

With broom in hand and a newly decorated uniform on him, Martin trotted over to Douglas. As he got near he lifted his arms to show off the uniform's colours and badges.

"Very nice," said Douglas. "A little too much gold for my taste, but you Hufflepuffs love showing off your colours."

Martin was about to comment that he thought there wasn't  _enough_  gold on his uniform and kept his mouth shut. Instead, he grinned and said, "Yes, well, thank you for helping me out back there. I really appreciate it."

"Of course. It's always helpful to have someone owe you a collosal favor."

Martin blinked at him. "A... a favor?"

"Of course. Quid Pro Quo. I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Not right now, of course, I haven't the foggiest idea what I want from you yet, but I'm sure it'll come up soon."

The pride Martin was feeling in his chest deflated. His eyes cated down to his shoes. "O-oh... okay."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah... just... a bit overexcited about the day."

"Hmmm... well, then I 'll let you be. See you later, Quidditch player Martin."


	4. Chapter 4

It shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did. Martin spent his whole Hogwarts experience practically alone. This was no different. Besides, did he really expect  _Douglas Richardson_  to think of him as a friend?

Now that Martin knew what Douglas looked like, it was almost impossible not to notice him. As soon as Martin walked into the Great Hall, he would first look for Arthur, and then his eyes would casually drift over to the Ravenclaw table, zeroing in on Douglas.

If Douglas noticed him, he would lift his glass of orange juice in mock salute. Most of the time, he had his attention elsewhere, usually chatting up a pretty girl or laughing with friends.

It shouldn't have bothered Martin. After all, he finally made the Quidditch team! Didn't that count for something?

It did, actually.

The euphoria of the whole experience had yet to wear off. His heart felt so warm, so full, he didn't think getting on the team would ever feel like this. It was like he was flying 24/7 and nothing would ever bring him down.

Until the very first practice.

Apparently Lesman thought if he couldn't rid of Martin by simply rejecting him off the team, then he could rid oof Martin by sending every bludger on the field after him. Martin managed not to take every bludger full blunt, but too many side-swiped him and he couldn't concentrate on finding the snitch. By the time practice was over, nobody knew where the snitch was and Martin was dotted with bruises.

"Remember, Crieff," Lesman sneered at him as Martin touched ground. "The seeker is the most targeted person on the team. If you can't handle our balls, what makes you think you can handle theirs?"

If Martin wasn't hurting so badly, he would have laughed at that.

Just as Martin placed away his broom and began walking back to the castle, he heard a voice cry out to him, "Martin!"

Arthur was running up to him. His nose was red, his cheeks bright. His Hufflepuff scarf dangled behind him in the cold air as he caught up  to Martin. "You were brilliant!" He said, a little out of breath. "You practically dodged all those beaters!"

"I didn't dodge all of them," Martin said, grimacing.

"Well, you almost did! You dodge 90% of them! Maybe more! Or less! I don't really know percentages."

Trust Arthur to make Martin smile. "Heh. Thanks, Arthur."

"Where are you off to now?"

"Probably off to dinner." Martin wasn't looking forward to it. The thought of sitting down with his fellow Hufflepuffs, half of which still didn't care he made the team.

Arthur must have sensed this because he suddenly hooked his arm around Martin's and said, "I know where we can go!"

A few minutes later they standing in front of a large painting of fruit. "Arthur..." Martin said warily. The entire hallway was deserted and only this painting of fruit was here. "We have to go back, otherwise we'll miss dinner."

Arthur reached out and ticked one of the giant pear with his finger. Martin jumped as the pear started giggling and shaking. The painting swung opened and Arthur pulled him inside.

Once the painting closed, fifty tiny high squeaky voices happily cried out, "Arthur!"

"Hello everyone!" Arthur said to the million little house-elves jumping all around them. "Lottie, I like your hat! Don-Don, how are you doing? Wiskers, great seeing you!"

The house-elves were tugging Martin along, pushing at his calves and pulling his clothes, forcing him to sit down at a table. Immediately fresh hot food was place in front of them, along with a very large cup of butterbeer. "Arthur, what the-?"

"This is the kitchens!" Arthur explained happily, taking a huge swing of butterbeer. He wiped his mouth and continued. "I like to go here sometimes if I missed dinner. Or if there's no one to talk to at the table. Or if I'm hungry."

"Nobody to talk to? You're always talking to someone."

Arthur shrugged. "Yeah, well, sometimes they don't talk back. It's okay, though. I like coming here. The elves are super great!"

Martin never thought of Arthur being lonely. Sure, some people took Arthur as a joke but he was a harmless guy. He was friendly and sociable and he always made you feel good. The thought of Arthur, forced to sit alone at the table was unpleasant. It made Martin feel a little guilty for abandoning him all those times.

To cover up the sour look he was sure to have on his face, Martin quickly took a bite of food. Wonderful deliciousness danced over his tongue and he sighed. For the next five minutes, they ate greedily, while Arthur repeated stories he heard from his mother and while house-elves applied ointment to Martin's bruises. It was kinda nice being pampered like this.

The painting suddenly swung opened and the house-elves squealed in excitement over a new guest. Martin twisted around to see who it was and he nearly choked on his chicken. It was Douglas.

Douglas walked in, handing over his cloak to the elves like this was his home and not the school kitchens. "Hello everyone," he said. His eyes traveled to the table where Martin and Arthur sat. "Hello Arthur, Martin. Fancy seeing you two here."

"Hi Douglas!" Arthur chirped. "It's been a while since I seen you here."

Douglas slipped into a chair next to Martin, uninvited. Within moments food and drink was placed down in front of him. "Your mother has had me busy for the past two weeks. I swear, I think she believes I work for her."

Martin didn't know what was going on. "Uh."

"Oh, Martin, how rude of me!" Arthur chirped. "This is Douglas!"

"We, uh... we've met."

"Oh really? Douglas, why didn't you tell me you knew Martin?"

Douglas shrugged as he started to eat his meal. "We haven't known each other for long."

"W-what about you two?" Martin said, gesturing to them both. "How do you know each other?"

"Mum," Arthur said. "She likes to give Douglas a lot of detentions and since she's... you know,  _my mum_ , we end up hanging out a lot."

"I think she's giving me detentions on purpose now," Douglas groaned. "I got detention today for  _yawning too loudly_."

"Yeah, but you know it's the only way mum can get you alone without looking like she's favoring you."

At Arthur's implication, Martin turned bright scarlet. Was a teacher having an affair-

"NO," Douglas shoved a finger into Martin's face, cutting off his thoughts. "I see that look. Carolyn trusts my judgement when it comes to buying her potions supplies. That's it. Don't read any further into it."

Martin shut his mouth. He frowned. "You call her by her first name?"

Douglas huffed and took a large bite of chicken. "When you've been in her presence as often as I have, you call her by her first name."

Arthur leaned over and whispered not-so-quietly, " _She didn't agree to it and that's why Douglas keeps getting detentions."_

Martin snorted unexpectedly and nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. He cupped his mouth as Douglas raised an eyebrow at him. That look only spurred Martin to laugh even more. He quickly swallowed, gasped, and unsucessfully tried to choke it back. 

He thought Douglas would be offended.

Instead, Douglas grinned and started chuckling along. Seeing his grin, Martin lowered his hands and allowed himself- cautiously- to let loose his giggles. This only made Douglas laugh harder, tossing his head back and slapping his knee.

Arthur was laughing too. "I don't know what's so funny," he said, grinning.


	5. Chapter 5

And thus began the unofficial meal ritual. Whenever Martin or Arthur came down to the Great Hall and found no seats avaliable, they go to the kitchens. Sometimes Douglas was there, sometimes he wasn't. Either way, Martin was never alone for meal time again.

It was actually really nice. Martin didn't realise how relieving it was, not having to go down to the Great Halls everyday and looking upon the faces who thought of him as annoying. It was nice to talk to someone who wasn't a part of his House and not be labeled as a traitor from among his peers.

And it was  _great_  that Douglas always had flying advice to give him.

Matin had yet to call Douglas his friend, not even in his head. Because beyond eating and chatting with each other in the kitchens, they didn't interact outside. It was probably for the best, considering the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff quidditch match was coming up. Martin certainly wouldn't want anyone accusing of him or Douglas with fraternizing with the enemy.

On the day of the match, Martin was practically dancing in his shoes. Everyone was either giving him encouragement or glaring at him from far away. He didn't care, they could glare all they want. Their minds were going to change the moment his hand curled around that snitch. Gosh, he wished he could see their expressions when it happens.

To keep his stomach calm, Martin negated having lunch with his fellow Hufflepuffs. Instead, he sat alone in the kitchen, drinking tea to calm his nerves. He was alone, which he expected. Arthur was in the dorms, painting his face gold and black and Martin thought Douglas would be with his own teammates. So when the painting swung opened and Douglas stepped through, Martin was very surprised.

Douglas was already in his Qudditch gear, making him look fierce and intimidating. He wasn't six foot (yet) but compared to Martin's pitiful 5'4 stature, Martin felt like an ant next to him. "Oh good," Douglas said. "You're here. I wanted to talk to you before the match."

"Oh?" Martin thought Douglas was going to give him some last minute advice. Was their seeker a cheating bastard? Was one of the beaters planning to bludgeon him?

"I'm here to collect on that favor you owe me," Douglas said. "I want you to lose this match."

 _What_.

Martin gaped at him, wondering if he heard him right. His brain informed him he did. "I-I-I- you want me to take a  _fall_?"

"Not exactly," Douglas said, holding up his hands in an act of peace. "Play as hard as you can, but when it comes down to catching the actual snitch, don't take it. Let my seeker get it."

He sounded like he rehearsed this speech, like he knew how Martin was going to react to this news. Martin couldn't wrap his head around it. "But why? Why do I have to...?"

Douglas lips thinned out. He then said, "This is my favor, Martin. I know you're upset, but there'll be other matches. Look, I have to go. My mates are probably wondering where I went. I'll see you at the match."

It took nearly five minutes after Douglas left for Martin realise he spilt his tea all over the table.

 

 

 

 

Martin wasn't going to do it.

He had to it, Douglas got him the position.

No, Martin got himself the position. It was all him!

But if it wasn't for Douglas, Martin wouldn't ever had the chance! He owed Douglas!

Martin had no idea what to do. Maybe he should just lose the game. It was just one game and it's not like there was a hundred percent chance he could win. The Ravenclaw seeker was new and maybe she was a better player.

But what if there was a chance for Martin to win this? Was he really going to let the opportunity to gain the respect of his fellow teammates by losing purposely? And knowing Lesman, he might just throw Martin off the team for not winning this match.

It was his first game and Martin was already dreading it. He should be giddy and happy and practically dancing in his shoes. Not clutching his stomach like a food poisoning victim.

He did his best to ignore both feelings. He was not about to walk out on that field looking like he already lost. So Martin straightened his back, held his chin high, and proceeded to march into the changing rooms.

Some of his teammates were kind enough to pat him on the back, telling him good luck on his first match. Others simply ignored him or muttered a crass, "Don't screw this up, Crieff," as they walked past.

Martin snapped on his last shin guard, grabbed his broom and stood by his other teammates, awaiting to be announced. The doors opened and he stepped through. The sudden roar of the crowd took him by surprise, temporarily making him forget of the current situation. He walked out, amazed to see the stands filled to the brim, all cheering for either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff to win.

Martin started waving to the crowds. Never in his life did he have this much attention. Perhaps he never will again. He better enjoy it.

He then spotted Douglas, easily spotted in his blue uniform. He was pandering to the crowd, blowing kisses and bowing dramatically.

Seeing Douglas, seeing his smug face and carefree smile made Martin's blood boil. How dare he ask Martin such a thing? Douglas knew, he  _knew_  exactly what this match meant to Martin. He might as well asked Arthur to stop smiling.

All the little arguments that had been floating around in Martin's head tried to resurface, tried to get him to see some rational thought before making an irrational decision, but he pushed those thoughts away.

The referee told everyone to mount their brooms. Martin swung his leg over, gripping the handle tightly. He glanced over to Douglas one last time and the boy wasn't even looking in his direction.

The whistle blew, Martin kicked off, and the game started.

Martin immediately rose above the rest, his eyes darted every direction, searching for that golden ball. To his far right, he could see the Ravenclaw seeker, Helena, pulling the same stunt. She was a fifth year and very pretty. She caught Martin's staring and she gave him a little polite wave, then went back to searching.

Below, the players were going mad, flying about like angry bees. The game barely started and already many were being plummeted by bludgers, breaking arms and smashing faces. Martin didn't think this game would get so brutal, so fast, but having Lesman as captain must have changed the Hufflepuff attitude.

Suddenly Helena shot off, going after something Martin could not see. Cursing to himself, he took off after her, thinking she saw the snitch and was going after it. She wasn't a very fast flyer and Martin caught up to her easily.

He began to pass her, trying desperately to search for that snitch. It took him a full ten seconds to realise Helena was no longer with him, but flying sharply in the other direction. That was when he saw it. The snitch. It was hovering right where he was a moment ago before Helena took off flying. It was a feint and Martin fell for it.

He turned his broom and shot off after her, hoping he could catch up. He didn't.

Martin watched in despair as Helena's fist curled around the snitch. She then twisted on the spot, triumphantly holding the snitch up, signaling the whistle to be blown. The Ravenclaw team had won before ten minutes even passed.

 

 

 

 

Martin avoided his teammates for the rest of the day. It wasn't easy, with his gold uniform making him stick out like a sore thumb. Luckily he wandered the halls of Hogwarts enough during his lonely days to know where to hide. So he dodged and weaved and sometimes hid into an abandoned restroom, waiting for passerbyers to go by. The few times he tried to apologize to his team, someone summoned a monkey to bite at his head.

Dinner rolled around and he was forced to skip that. He didn't dare go to the kitchens, not wanting to see Arthur's face. Martin was able to sneak back into his room while everyone else was at dinner to change clothes.

And promptly found his bed shredded and his personal items destroyed. He was able to fix most of his stuff with a repair charm, but some items he knew he was going have to replace. Like most of his books.

By the time he was done placing a protective charm on everything, he was starving. He thought about just going down to dinner and facing the Hufflepuff wrath- he was going have to sooner or later- but he didn't have the energy.

He prayed that the kitchens were going to be empty. He managed to make it into the hallway with the painting of the giant fruit when he heard Douglas call out to him. "Martin!"

Douglas certainly looked like he was having a blast. Martin swore he could hear the Ravenclaws celebrating through the stone walls. "There you are, I was looking for you," Douglas said, a bit out of breath. His cheeks were pink. "Thank you for losing. I know it must've not been easy, but I guess we're even now."

Martin thought about just telling him the truth, how he had no intention of losing and if Helena had not tricked him, he would have done everything he could to win. But that wasn't the point. It was bad enough Douglas had the  _nerve_  to ask him of such a thing, but losing (purposely or not) meant Martin was going to receive the blunt of irrational hate from his peers. Who the  _hell_  thought it was okay to allow him to be hated like that?

"You think we're even?" Martin hissed at him. "You know, I thought we were friends. I thought you liked me. But not even Arthur would ask me of such a thing and I was surprised you did."

Douglas was taken back. "Martin-"

"I've been wanting to be on a Quidditch team since I was six and on my very first match, I lose! I have never felt so horrible about myself in my life!"

He could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He was not going to cry here. He was not going to be that pathetic and cry in front of Douglas Richardson.

So he turned and ran. He passed the painting of fruit, ignoring Douglas' cry of, "Martin, I'm sorry!" and kept going. He thought as soon as he got on the Quidditch team, his life would change.

How stupid of him to think that.


	6. Chapter 6

Martin had no idea how long he waited. He thought it was best to sneak into the dorms after everyone had gone to bed, wishing and hoping that dinner and a few hours would settle everyone's nerves. He squated and patiently waited in the hallways near the divination classrooms, feeling more like an abandoned shoe than a student of this school.

When he thought he had waited long enough, Martin stood up to make his trek back to the dorms. He stretched, feeling every muscle groan. He was so exhausted, mentally and physically. He should probably skip classes tomorrow, sleep in and regain his energy.

Though Martin spent so much time wandering the halls of Hogwarts, the school had a very different atmosphere at night than compared to the day. The dark corners seemed more prevalent, the echoes that much louder. As Martin quietly made his way downstairs, sometimes he stopped because he swore he heard whispers hissing behind him.

He thought it was all his imagination or maybe one of the ghosts playing a stupid trick on him. He tried putting it out of his mind.

"Locomotor mortis!"

A giant flash of light struck Martin in the legs, instantly locking them together. Martin yelled out in surprised and immediately toppled forward, smacking his face into the ground. A leg-locking curse, his mind supplied through the hot white pain against his cheek. Martin struggled to pull out his wand and pointed it at his legs to enchant the counter-spell.

"Expelliarmus!"

Martin's wand violently flew out of his hand, bouncing off a wall, skipped across the floor before rolling to a complete stop. He watched as Lesman stepped out of the shadows and picked up the wand, examining it with digust curling on his lips. "What an ugly looking wand," he said. He stared down at Martin, his eyes narrowing into slits. "You cost me my win, Crieff."

"It's just a game!" Martin yelled to him. "One game!"

"A game  _you_  lost! I knew I shouldn't have let you on the team, you pathetic loser!"

"You're upset, okay, I get it! But this going too far!"

Martin tried to drag himself away. It was useless effort as Lesman suddenly kicked him in the shoulder, knocking him onto his back.

Lesman pointed his wand at Martin's face, forcing him to still. "Oh no," he sneered. "I'm not done with you yet.  _Stupefy_!"

 

 

 

When Martin woke up, he knew right away he was very much deep in trouble. It wasn't the odd pain in his arms that gave it away, or the immense headache that pounded at his senses, it was the coldness that told him he was in trouble. He could feel the chill seeping into his bones, making him shiver. Pain can be controlled, it can be ignored. The cold has you no matter what.

Martin opened his eyes, hoping this was all a very bad dream. Rope tightly bounded his arms and wrists, binding him to a tree. A root dug uncomfortably against his lower backside. Lesman stood in front of him, sadistically grinning down at him.

A quick glance around told Martin everything of where he was: the Forbidden Forest. He had gone in the Forbidden Forest once before, on an assignment during his first year to collect a few magical plants. He was only allowed to go in a few feet and he was with others. But he remembered how large and intimidating the forest was, how it seemed to go on for miles. He heard rumours that the trees move when you're not looking, so no matter how well you map the forest, you always got lost. "W-what's going on? What are we doing here?"

Lesman sneered. "I'm not going to get a good night's sleep knowing you're in the castle somewhere, Crieff. Oh, don't give me that look. I heard you like spending time outside."

"This is the Forbidden Forest!" Martin yelled at him, as if the emphasis will mean something. "This isn't some tree near the lake, this place is crawling with giant spiders and werewolves! Let me go, Lesman, let me go!"

Lesman turned to leave, Martin's wand in his fat, sweaty hand.

"Lesman!" Martin cried out in panic. He tugged at his ropes in useless effort. "You're not going to leave me here!"

He always knew Lesman was a  _jerk_ , but not a crazy dangerous person.

"Don't worry," Lesman said, not bothering to turn back to look at Martin. He twirled the wand in between his fingers. "If you're still here in the morning, I'll let you loose."

"You can't-! Give me back my wand... Lesman! Get back here and let me go! Lesman!"

 

 

 

 

Douglas lied about a lot of things. He often lied about his age (how else was he going to get a good drink around here?) He lied about his homework, he lied about where he's been and where he's going.

But he can admit when he's  _wrong_.

He should be back at the Ravenclaw common room right now, celebrating and cheering like a fool. Instead, he wandered the halls, dodging teacher and ghosts alike, searching for Martin.

He already checked with the Hufflepuff dorms and was told, with a hiss, that Martin was not there. After the painting swung closed with a dismissive angry huff, more guilt piled on Douglas. He knew the Hufflepuffs would be upset after their loss, but to react to Martin's name as if saying it will bring a plague upon them was over the top. No wonder Martin had yet to come back to the dorms.

So Douglas wandered, ducking from teachers as they did their evening rounds. He tried to remember certain parts of the castle Martin talked avidly about while in the kitchens. Martin tried to hide the fact that he went to these areas because he was lonely but Douglas still heard it in his voice.

Why Douglas never commented on it boggled him.

Douglas  _liked_  Martin. Sure, Martin was young and a little immature, but he was a decent fun guy to be around. And even Douglas had to admit he got excited from the way Martin practically squealed about his love of flight. After their first conversation together in that random hallway so many weeks ago, Douglas looked at his own flying experiences with a new perspective.

It was unfair and cruel to ask Martin to lose his first match. To treat him like a stepping stone. For pity sakes, Douglas was the older one here. He was the one who was suppose to be  _mature_.

Douglas sighed. It was nearly midnight and he yet to find Martin. He already walked as far as the edge of the lake, and he doubted even Martin would be outside just to avoid people. It was cold. Maybe Douglas should wait till the morning, and seek Martin out during breakfast.

That was when he saw Lesman walking right out of the Forbidden Forest. Douglas ducked behind a tree, not wishing to risk getting caught by a irate Hufflepuff captain. Douglas never liked Lesman, the slimy git. He took all the fun out of Qudditch. No wonder Martin was unhappy.

Lesman stalked towards the castle, smiling as if he had won today's match. There was an ugliness in his features as his smile showed off his tobacco-stained teeth. He was also playing with something in his hand, twirling it in his fingers.

Douglas recognized it immediately. " _Expelliarmus_!"

Lesman was blasted off his feet, Martin's wand soaring high in a arc, landing right into Douglas' hand. Lesman tried to get back to his feet and Douglas immediately locked his arms and legs together, immobilizing him.

A closer inspection revealed that this was definitely Martin's wand. "Lesman," Douglas demanded. "Where did you get this wand?"

Lesman tilted his head up in defiance.

Douglas shoved his own wand into the soft part of Lesman's throat. "I'm not going to ask again. Where is Martin?"

The wand dug uncomfortably into Lesman's throat, making him choke as he talked. "He's... he's in the forest."

Douglas' mouth dropped. "The Forbidden Forest? You left him in the  _Forbidden Forest_?"

"I was only trying to scare him. He's fine... he won't get lost..."

"He's only a fourth year and you left him  _without his wand_! You goddamn idiot!"

Douglas squatted down and fished around Lesman's pockets until he pulled out a couple of gold coins. He transfigured them into a quill, a bottle of ink, and some parchment. He scribbled down a quick note, and pinned it to Lesman's immobile body. With a swirl of his wand, Douglas shot off a bright orange light into the sky, signalling the spot.

"You better hope he's still alive," Douglas threatened.

With his wand and Martin's in hand, Douglas ran into the forest.

 

 

 

 

No matter how hard Martin struggled, no matter how hard he tugged and pulled and jerked, the ropes did not budge. He could feel his fingers drenched with blood as the ropes scratched deep into his skin.

His shoulders were screaming for relief and every movement caused them to spasm in pain. Martin thought if he could just wiggle enough, he could slip one of his hands through. Use the blood as lubricant if he had to, just tug this way and that-

A sharp stabbing pain seized him, stealing his breath and his strength. Martin arched his back, waiting the muscles to relax. When it finally subsided, his determination went with it and with a sob, he brought his knees up to rest his head on them.

Every time somebody knocked him down, made fun of him, or out right ignored him, Martin kept his head high. He wasn't going to get upset over something stupid as kids with petty vendettas. On some level, he knew what he was doing was right and that alone gave him the strength to carry on.

But he knew he was going to die. He was going to die tied to this stupid tree while getting eaten by wolves or spiders or blood loss. He could be forgiven for shedding a few tears.

Martin wept bitterly into the cloth of his trousers. Dying wasn't even the worst part. He was going to die  _alone_. Nobody knew where he was, nobody was going to look for him. Maybe Arthur will, but he'll never think of looking in the Forbidden Forest.

And what about Martin's parents? Will there even be a body to bury afterwards? How was his mother going to react when the teachers tell her they found Martin's broken, half-eaten body rotting in the woods?

He was scared. He was so, so scared.

From the side, he swore he could hear someone calling his name. He paid little heed to it, passing it off as wind or his own imagination.

"Martin!"

He ears perked up. Martin raised his head, sniffling. He waited.

"Martin!"

"Douglas?" Martin gasped. Hope exploded inside of him. "Douglas!" He cried out, trying to fight through the thickness of his throat. "Douglas, Douglas, I'm here!"

From where he sat, Martin could see the bright lit end of a wand coming towards him siwftly. Douglas burst forth from the tree line and upon seeing Martin, relief washed over his face. "Martin," he breathed. "Thank goodness I found you! I was afraid you'd been eaten!"

He dashed forward and with a swish of his wand, cut through the ropes, releasing Martin.

Martin yanked his arms free, ignoring the cramping of his muscles. He suddenly threw his arms around Douglas' torso, burying his face into Douglas' chest.

"Martin, what-"

"Thank you," Martin sobbed into his shirt. He didn't care he sounded so undignified and sappy. "Thank you for coming to get me..."

"Yes... um... yes..." Douglas patted his back awkwardly. "Okay... okay, that's enough. Look, Martin, we have to go. The Forbidden Forest is no place to be at night. Here's your wand."

Douglas suddenly wished he didn't sleep through that optional medical class he took in fifth year. Sure, he mainly took it because he knew  _could_  sleep through it, but Martin's wrists were rubbed raw. There was nothing they could do about it until they got back to the castle.

Luckily, Martin was not so inept in that area as Douglas was. After a quick wipe of his eyes, Martin tapped his wand across his wrists and bandages sprang out, wrapping themselves around his wounds.

"That's a good job."

Douglas didn't know why he said it, but he suddenly felt the urge to compliment Martin. Here they were, standing in the middle of one of the most infamous areas in England, and Douglas felt the need to give Martin a compliment. He sounded like an idiot.

Martin lifted up his head to Douglas. Martin's cheeks were still wet with tears, eyes red, and yet at Douglas' words, he gave a shy smile. It was probably the first compliment he had in days.

His gaze shifted and his smile dropped. "Douglas," he whispered, fear creeping back into his voice. "What is that?"

He pointed and Douglas turned, holding his lit wand high to see. About forty feet away, something the size of a German Shepard was walking towards them. It was covered in brown-reddish fur, and had five legs. It reminded Douglas of an injured spider, the way it tried to move gracefully while adjusting to a lost limb.

A memory blip of magical animal studies popped into Douglas' mind, telling him exactly what this creature was. " _Martin_ ," Douglas said quietly in hopes the creature won't hear him. " _That's a_  quintaped."

The creature's mouth opened, showing off its rows and rows of razor sharp teeth.

Douglas pushed Martin behind him. " _Move back slowly_..."

The quintaped suddenly screamed, baring its teeth and charged right at them. It jumped, and Douglas blasted it out of the air.

The quintaped fell to the ground failing, screaming loudly into the night. Douglas blasted it again, rendering it unconscious. It wasn't dead, Douglas knew. These things don't kill easily.

"Douglas," Martin said, tugging at Douglas' robes. " _Look_!"

They were surrounded. From where he stood, Douglas could see at least seven more quintapeds had appeared, slowly making their way towards them. "Martin, how are your dueling skills?"

"Dueling?" Martin pointed his wand out at the ready. "Uh, I did some back in third year but my wand was not designed to fight."

"But it was designed to be  _fast_. You hit these animals with every spell you can muster, hit them so fast they won't be able to think straight, got it?"

The unconscious quntaped was already stirring, its legs twitching. Martin gulped. "Yeah, I got it."

 

 

 

 

Carolyn read the note grimly. Lesman laid motionless on the ground, his eyes pleading for someone to unbind him but he was ignored.

"They're in the Forbidden Forest?" Professor Duncan gasped. "But it's the quintaped mating season! They'll be eaten if we don't find them in time!"

Carolyn crumpled the note in her hand, then dropped it right on Lesman's face. She purposely treaded on his hand when she turned on her heel. "We need my son," she said over Lesman's pained squeal. "He's the only one who can find them in time."

 

 

 

 

Douglas was right. Martin  _was_  fast. He was throwing out spells left and right, barely pausing for breath. He had to be fast because as soon as his spell hit, the quintaped was only momentarily stunned before shaking off the effects and charging again.

Luckily Douglas did have the power behind his wand. He knocked quintapeds out with a single spell, and some of them stayed down after four or five hits. Between the two of them, they were able to keep the hoard from overwhelming them.

It wasn't a perfect defense. The quintapeds seemed to realise that Martin was the weaker of the two and they charged at him more than Douglas, forcing Douglas to divert his attention away from his own attackers to pick up the slack. A few times they got close, snapping at Douglas' legs and letting spittle splatter against his face.

It was only inevitable that at some point his guard would drop long enough for one of them to get through.

The wind was knocked out of Douglas as one quintaped slammed right into him, throwing him off his feet. His wand was knocked away while sharp, tiny teeth sunk deep into his arm. Douglas screamed.

Martin shoved his wand straight into the quintaped's face, blasting it away. The quintaped flew, Douglas' flesh, blood and bits of robe still in its teeth. Martin dramatically swirled his wand in a high arc, erecting a temporary force field around them.

The force field, Douglas knew, was only going to last at most forty seconds. The way the quintapeds kept throwing themsleves against it, the time might be less.

"Douglas, oh, Douglas!" Martin was panicking and yet was able to keep his wits enough to wrap Douglas' arm in bandage. Blood soaked through in seconds

"My... wand," Douglas grunted. He didn't see where it landed. "Summon it."

Martin did, placing the wand back into Douglas' slack hand. Douglas could not find the strength to curl his hand around it.

He closed his eyes, coming to the realisation that this was it.

"Martin," Douglas gritted through the pain. "I'm sorry.  _I'm sorry_. I didn't know... I shouldn't have asked you to take a dive for me."

"It's okay," Martin said quietly. There was a tremor in his voice as if he knew what this was. God, he sounded so young, much younger than fourteen. "I don't care anymore. I'm just glad you came back."

The forcefield flickered in and out of existence.

"Just tell me why," Martin asked. "Why did you want to win so badly?"

Despite they were on the edge of death, Douglas' cheeks tinged pink. "Helena said if we won... she... she would let me touch her boobs."

Martin let out a choked bark of laughter. "Are you kidding me? Well... did she?"

Douglas grinned. "Nope."

The forcefield fell, shattering into a million pieces of clear light then blinking out of existence. Martin tensed, holding his wand high, ready to fight. The quintapeds stepped forward menacingly.

Something suddenly  _burst_  through the follaige, soaring over the heads of the quintapeds, landing right in front of Martin and Douglas. It twisted, facing the quintapeds, and it roared, the heckles on its back raised, its body poised to defend.

Martin's mouth dropped. Douglas spat out, "Is that a  _polar bear_?"

Though Martin had only seen them on television and books, here was no mistaking it, it was a polar bear. The quintapeds were just as stunned, hesitating at the sight of this large, white animal.

They hesitated for a mere three seconds, then shot forward at the polar bear, all of them at once.

The bear stood on its hind legs, bringing itself up to its full  _ten foot_  height. The bear swung one of its masssive paws, catching five quintapeds at once, knocking them away like they were tennis balls. One quintaped managed to land on the polar bear's back, snapping at its fur.

The bear swung up, hooked a claw into the orange mass and _slammed_  the creature into the ground with a sickening sound. The bear was too fast, too strong to overwhelm and within a few seconds, the quintapeds retreated, scambered back into the forest, their fifth leg tucked underneath their hide.

"Did a polar bear just save us?" Douglas asked stupidly. "Please tell me I'm not hallucinating from blood loss, did we get saved by a polar bear?"

"I... don't know?"

There was green blood splattered over the bear's paws and with a disgusted grunt, the bear wiped them on the scattered fallen leaves of the forest ground. When it shifted back into a human being, he was still trying to scrape the blood off his shoes.

"Hi chaps!" Arthur said.

" _ARTHUR_?" Martin and Douglas said at the same time. Their wounds were forgotten momentarily. "You're an animagus?'

"Yeah! I'm registered and everything! I sniffed you out and I- oh darn. Wait, wait, before I forget..." Arthur pulled out his wand and shot off a signal into the sky. "Are you two okay?"

 

 

 

 

They spent the night at the hospital wing. Arthur refused to leave them and under the circumstances, Carolyn couldn't bring herself to care. "Instead of sleeping, "I'm going to spend my whole night talking to the headmaster, debating what we should do with Lesman!"

"Arthur can eat him," Douglas suggested.

The headnurse healed all their wounds. Douglas was the worst off, with a chunk of his arm gone. He'll bear scars for the rest of his life but he was relieved that none of the dexterity or movement was taken from him. Martin's wrists would be sore for a few days, and Arthur had a few scratches around his back and arms. Neither of them cared.

After some medicine, Carolyn ordered dinner for them, then left to deal with the Lesman situation.

"I can't believe you didn't tell us you're a animagus," Martin said to Arthur.

Arthur shrugged. "Mum told me not to spread it around. It's amazing how people treat you differently, knowing that you're a polar bear."

"Well, you're not  _really_  a bear, Arthur. You can just turn into one-"

"I'm a polar bear..." Arthur said wistfully.

"Martin," Douglas interrupted suddenly. "I want to apologize again for asking you to lose."

"Stop it. I stopped caring about it, oh, two hours ago. I love to fly but Quidditch is not worth the harassment. There are other activities I can do that involves flying."

Douglas blinked at him. "I always knew Lesman was a tosser, but I didn't know you were being harassed by others."

"It doesn't matter at this point. I'm quitting the team anyways."

Martin surprised himself with that statement. After spending so much time trying, fighting to get on the team, letting go was so incredibly easy. He didn't feel relieved or sad to see it go.

He wasn't sure how the rest of the team was going to take it. They lost their Captain and their seeker within a day. They probably be pretty upset about it, but once they knew what was going on, Martin was confident they would understand.

Maybe.

 

 

 

 

That next morning when Martin woke up, he was alone in the hospital wing. The headnurse told him Arthur and Douglas were already on their way down to breakfast and now that Martin was healed, he should head down there too.

He thought about just sneaking away to the kitchens and remembered that Carolyn and the other teachers were probably already down there, making sure he showed. Not a good idea to disappear twice in a span of ten hours.

This would be the first time Martin faced the Hufflepuffs since the match. The game only happened yesterday and yet it felt like it's been years.

Putting on a brave face, Martin entered the Great Hall.

Immediately all eyes were on him. He heard that Lesman was expelled this morning and he guessed everyone now knew the story too. Nobody laughed at him, nobody sneered at him, and with his head held high, he trudged to the Hufflepuff table.

Like the many times before, there was no room for him except at the very end of the table. Arthur was already there, sitting by himself. Martin couldn't believe it. Lesman tried to  _kill_  him and he and Arthur were going to be treated the same way like nothing had changed?

Screw them, then!

With pride, Martin plopped down next to Arthur, pointedly staring at everyone, daring them to make a comment. What started the whisper fest was not Martin's defiance. It was Douglas.

He stood up from the Ravenclaw table, strode across, ignoring the gasps and questions from his peers, and sat down next to Martin. "Hey," he said, as if he did this every day.

Finally, Nancy had enough. "What are you doing here, Richardson? It's bad enough you won, but you have to mock us by sitting with those freaks-"

She squealed suddenly when Carolyn's wand jabbed her in the ear. "Sit down!" Carolyn hissed at her. "I do not tolerance bullying at this school, understand?"

Nancy sat down, cupping her ear. She sniffed, embarrassed tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Carolyn nodded at Arthur, who waved back at her. Douglas and Martin raised a glass of juice. Once that was done, the usual noise rumble of the Great Hall rose and nobody bothered them again.

From that moment on, Martin, Arthur, and Douglas became the greatest of friends. There were some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and fending off thirty dangerous creatures in the Forbidden Forest with only two wands and a polar bear was one of them.

 **End**.


End file.
